


Simbelmyne

by Brofur



Series: Elvenking and Horselord [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Gift Giving, Light Bondage, Light Spanking, M/M, Mirkwood, Oral Sex, Requited Love, Rimming, Rohan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 16:16:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brofur/pseuds/Brofur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Simbelmyne grows anew every season...and weathers change...much like your fëa will when it passes..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simbelmyne

**Author's Note:**

> #thramer
> 
> This fic was done off a Skype RP with childrenofeomund on Tumblr. This ship started as crack, but there's been a tidy pile of background research, RPs and feels which may be posted along with this drabble.

     Eomer entered Thranduil's chambers, trying to keep his footfalls quiet. He had become slightly more self concious after spending so much time around the light boots of the Fair Folk and didn't want to startle the Elvenking should he be sleeping. He was holding a small gift, a box with a circlet made of Simbelmyne, blooms kept fresh and alive by a bit of Gandalf's magic. He wanted to surprise the Elvenking, but found the rooms empty (or seemingly so), you could never tell with Elves. The sound of water splashing  was soon heard from behind one of the suite doors. The Elvenking was stooped by the underground spring that served as a bath, wringing long rope of hair dry over the water. He straightened as he heard someone pass through the bedchamber. A robe was pulled from its hook, silk belt knotted as he went to greet the "newcomer." The horselord heard soft footsteps on the limestone. He assumed it was Galion and turned to ask where Thranduil was. But his question was stopped short when he saw the King. He lowered his gaze, and inhaled deeply, before looking up again with a smile. The box was offered slowly, his expression near shy. "This is for you, my love," he murmured. "I hope that it suits you."

Thranduil's brows knit as he took the box carefully.

"And what is the occasion?"

     The elf's lips pursed as he went through a mental checklist of mortal holidays. His slim fingers worked to open the box, as his head tilt with curiosity.  Still damp hair fell over one of his shoulders, revealing a side of his throat and a pale expanse of skin to which water clung like dewdrops. The smell of soap and flowers hung in the air, and Eomer bit his lip as he took in Thranduil. "That I care for you deeply?" he asked, shrugging before he took a step closer. "Do I need a reason to dote?"  

The Elvenking's lips twitched with a small smile.

"Forgive me...it has been at least an Age since I was involved in any sort of courtship." His brow knit briefly as his thoughts turned to his wife. The passing of a bond-mate always left a permanent void in one's heart. It was almost unheard for an Elf to take another partner after such a tragedy. The idea of filling the void with a replacement was a shallow sentiment. He felt, rather, that a new space was opening. Another hairline crack forming in the battered facets of immortal glass that was his soul. He thumbed the box lid up to break the reverie, eyes widening at the flowers inside. 

     Eomer reached out to brush a few strands of hair out of Thranduil's face, then slid his hand down to lift his chin. "They are Simbelmyne, flowers that protect and represent my forefathers. Gandalf has preserved this to never wilt, for I was not sure how else to keep them from dying," he lifted the circlet out of the box, and carefully set it on Thranduil's head. "Something to remember me by, even after I have left this world. . ." Thranduil inclined his head, and laced fingers with the horselord. "That won't be for a long time by your reckoning..." His lips curved with a sad smile. "Simbelmyne grows anew every season...and weathers change...much like your fëa will when it passes..."  

"Not by my reckoning, no, but I know that you think of it," he said, and pressed his forehead to Thranduil's with a deep sigh. "But you will not have to travel to Rohan to see it grow each year. I want you to remember the love I hold for you. Do not think of the bad, but of the memories we make together in the coming years. That is, if you'll have me for that long." He chuckled, and closed his eyes, taking in the scent of the Elvenking, like leaves and sunshine.

      "And what if I choose to come to Rohan anyway?" He smoothed hands down Eomer's neck. "I do not know what you have heard about Elves...but we are not known for short romances." He chuckled, deft fingers twirling locks of Eomer's hair. The texture was pleasantly coarse over his skin.  "You would come to Rohan for my memory?" Eomer's eyes opened, and he looked at Thranduil with confusion and hopeful expectancy. "I did not think I could care for you anymore that I do now, but it seems I was wrong." He sighed again, happily, and slid one arm around Thranduil's waist, while the other cupped the back of his head. 

Thranduil looked up from under long lashes, thumb moving to stroke the horselord's cheek. "My kind cannot share physical pleasure as flippantly as Men can...to share your bed is to share a piece of yourself..." He leaned up, pressing lips to Eomer's.   Eomer groaned, fingers tangling in Thranduil's still-wet hair to crush the elf to him with lazy intimacy. His tongue sought entrance, slid inside and explored as his eyes slid closed. He groaned low in his throat, and carefully moved Thranduil until they were standing at the edge of his bed.  The Elvenking took a step, tongue curling warm over Eomer's. The horselord was pushed on his back and the elf crawled over him with feline balance.

     "I do not think you travelled here merely to dote.." Eomer shrugged from where he was on the bed, and lifted onto his elbows. "We should discuss trade when there is time," he said between kisses. "But that can wait. I am here for you, my king." 

"Is that so?" Soft lips trailed down the horselord's throat, pale hair pooling around them. Thranduil's hands moved down Eomer's chest, loosening tunic laces.

     Eomer nodded, his eyes closing and head falling back as he enjoyed the gentle touches. He exhaled sharply when Thranduil got his tunic open, and helped him to shrug off the rest of the shirts. He reached up and brought down the Elvenking for another kiss, more heated and passionate than before. Pale fingers slid through the horselord's chest hair, as the elf's lips parted in a silent gasp at the texture. He leaned back to break the kiss, teeth snagging Eomer's lower lip. The horselord's hips were straddled before the Elf's fingers moved suggestively to his robe belt.  Eomer smirked. "Going to put a show on for me, are you?" He leaned forward and reached out to tug the robe open, before leaning back on his elbows again to take the look of the Elvenking in.  

      The elf licked his lips as the thin fabric parted, exposing his torso. He shivered, but not from the chill of the air in the room. It was the intensity with which Eomer's eyes roved up his bared skin. "Something like that..." He shrugged his shoulders, allowing the silk to fall and pool around his elbows. The horselord inhaled and moved his hand up Thranduil's stomach. He had heard of the beauty of Elves in many stories, but seeing it always took him off guard. The Elvenking's skin was smooth and taut over lean cords of muscle. Eomer knew full well that this lithe frame was decieving. Ages of strength and experience lay under this youthful exterior.

      Thranduil knelt between Eomer's legs, eyes twinkling.  Eomer raised a brow, but smirked as his eyes traveled over Thranduil's form again. "Oh?" His voice grew softer, deeper. "What might that something be?" He kicked off his boots, leaned up and forward and reached around Thranduil to tug off his socks. Thranduil pressed his palm to Eomer's crotch, kneading slowly and smiling. "You'll find out soon enough." His thumb moved in slow circles over the rough fabric, catching the outline of the cock underneath. The horselord relaxed, laid back and let his fingers catch in the sheets under him. He hissed from the touch on his cock through the layers of clothing that still remained.  The elf smirked, unbuckling Eomer's belt and trouser placket. His brows raised as his hand slid in and gripped around Eomer's cock experimentally. His smirk widened at the heat and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

     "Mmmm," Eomer groaned as his hips rocked up to meet Thranduil's touch, and he licked his lips at the elf.

"You going to tease me all night?"  

"I could..."

     He tugged the horselord's trousers over his hips, tongue curling over lip as his erection sprung free. He drew his still damp hair back with one hand, pumping cock with the other. Eomer's eyes widened as Thranduil pulled his hair back, and his brows lifted in surprise. He hadn't expected Thranduil to be willing to do _that_. He waited patiently, enjoying Thranduil's hand on his cock.  Thranduil leaned down, thumbing down cock sheath. His tongue curled out, lapping to taste the bead of liquid that dripped out. It was saltier than expected, but far from unpleasant. His hand kept pumping, tongue wrapping around the head of Eomer's cock. Eomer felt his thighs and stomach get a wet brush from Thranduil's hair as the elf leaned forward and reached out to slide his fingers into it. His eyes closed slowly, and he left his hand to rest on the Elvenking's head. He felt his breath come out in a rush, toes curling and catching in the sheets.

     The Elvenking trailed his tongue up the shaft curiously. He had recieved such pleasure enough times, but never given it. His lips circled the head, flushed from heat. "Have you ever done this before?" Eomer asked breathlessly, and shifted on the bed. The tentative touches and slowness were driving him a bit mad, and he moved again, fingers flexing.   "Not to a man..." He suckled, cheeks hollowing as lips moved down to meet pumping hand. His brow furrowed with the new pleasure of throbbing flesh on his tongue. Eomer cursed under his breath, hand tightening in Thranduil's hair. His hips made an aborted thrust, short and unfullfilling. He almost _keened_ , the thought of his cock in such a sweet mouth making him hotter and more desperate.

     Thranduil rested his hands on the horselord's thighs, moaning around his cock. His head bobbed, building up a careful rhythm. Thin fingers curled as Eomer's cock hit the back of his throat. The horselord shuddered, felt his hips buck again and threw his head back with a moan. He leaned forward on his elbows again, brow furrowing and mouth falling open with a sigh as he watched Thranduil take his cock down again and again. The Elvenking gripped the base of the prick, shaft slick with spit. His head bobbed faster, cheeks hollowing deeper and fair cheeks flushing. He groaned low, own cock twitching.  "Fuck, Thranduil, come up here," Eomer said, not wanting to force the king into continuing his ministrations. His hand tugged on the elf's hair gently, urging him to come back up.  Thranduil lifted his head, cock slipping from between mouth with an obscene slurp. He smirked, licking pre from lips. "I don't think that's really what you want." The words were spoken with a seductive lilt.

     Eomer groaned again. Laying with Thranduil was always like stoking a stubborn fire, but when it was finally lit it blazed and crackled. The two kings had an unspoken game of control between them. Titles blending with lust and restraint. The King of Rohan took hold of the sleeves of Thranduil's robe and bound his avian wrists with a quick knot. Thranduil did not protest and Eomer's cock swelled with the thrill of permission.

     He gasped, head falling back for a moment before he looked down again; this time his hips lifted purposely, fucking into Thranduil's mouth with a grunt that had his eyes rolling back. Crystalline eyes widened and Thranduil's head tilted. His lips were swollen and flushed more from the friction of matching the horselord's pace. His eyes closed, jaw slacking wide as Eomer's cock thrust deep. Eomer's grip tightened in Thranduil's hair, trying to be gentle but barely succeeding. His hips bucked in tight jerks, stomach flexed tight to draw some semblance of control. The elf's hair was tousled in the horselord's fingers, throat tightening on a moan. 

     "Bema, your mouth is so hot, fuck," Eomer rambled, cursing and blessing Thranduil's mouth with heated words, body strung tight with desperation and desire. Thranduil moved his head lower, pausing to wrap tongue. He shivered with pleasure of relinquishing control as his fingers flexed against his new bindings, own cock dripping in the sheets. Toes curling, fingers tangled and pulling, Eomer bucked three more times and stilled, gasping and shuddering with eyes rolled back into his skull as he came. He called out Thranduil's name hoarsely, then slumped into the mattress with a sigh. Thranduil sat back on his heels, the horselord's excess spent dripping. He had tried to swallow, but more had escaped down his lips and over his collarbone. Eomer shuddered one last time, before lifting his head to chuckle at Thranduil. He beckoned the elf to come up beside him. "Let me help you with that," he murmured.

     Thranduil groaned and shivered, cock twitching once. Eomer pushed him on his back with a smirk. White blonde hair fanned underneath the elf's head, his eyes star bright with arousal and battered lips a slick pink contrast to the rest of his pale skin.  "Mmm, good, love," Eomer licked languidly against Thranduil's cock, pressed a kiss to the tip before taking it into his mouth and down his throat. He barely stopped to adjust to the width of it as his nose rested against the base. Thranduil gasped, hips bucking up off the bed. His fingers wound in the sheets behind his back, slender thighs trembling. The horselord hummed and bobbed his head up and down before cupping Thranduil's ballacks. He teased and rolled the soft flesh in his hand, enjoying the elf's shivers. The Elvenking whimpered, back arching in a pretty curve as his head fell to the side, 

    Eomer slid back off, pressed a kiss to his inner thigh and smirked up at Thranduil with heavy lidded eyes. He slid his hand under Thranduil's arse and urged him over onto his stomach. The he pulled the elf onto his knees and spread his cheeks wide. Thranduil's face flushed darker and he looked over his shoulder, eyes curious. "What are you..?" He bit his lip at the feel of rough hands on his cleft. Eomer spoke not a word, just grinned, growled, and dove in, lips and tongue already slick with saliva now lapping at Thranduil's rim. His nails dug into the globes of the elf's arse, left little crescent shapes behind as his tongue worked at the hole. Thranduil let out a startled cry, spine arching down and arse rocking against Eomer's  tongue.  His head fell back, toes curling as waves of damp hair fell down his back. His cock throbbed harder as Eomer took hold of the knot around his wrists to keep him still.

     His tongue probed and tapped, licked and teased and worked at Thranduil's hole until it was dripping with spit. He enjoyed the cries the Elvenking made, rewarding him with deeper thrusts of his tongue each time he moaned. Thranduil squirmed with another stuttered moan. His thighs were trembling as hips rucked harder against the tongue fucking. His hole was twitching, gaping with want. The horselord kept up his work, tongue dragging against his pucker and lapping, sliding as far in as it could reach. Thranduil jerked once against the pleasure racking his frame and Eomer lifted his hand and brought it down with a **smack**!, leaving a red handprint in its wake. Thranduil gave a yelp, legs almost buckling. His cock betrayed his coy expression, pulsing and rising higher. The walls echoed with a lyrical series of shameless sounds. The Elvenking's mouth was hanging open on the sounds, eyes rolling back as the horeslord continued his ministrations.

     Eomer chuckled, but thrust his tongue faster while suckling with his lips. His fingers pinched and patted at Thranduil's arse, slapping and smacking every few moments with an uneven cadence to enjoy the little sounds the Elvenking made as he fought to deny the dirty pleasure of such rough trade. Eomer smoothed his hand over the rosy marks he had made before letting go of the knot. Thranduil fell forward, torso moving in a slow slope and arse moving upwards. The defined sinews were tense, ivory flesh turned pink at Eomer's mercy.  His hair fell over his head, pieces fluttering with his heavy breathing. There was another smack, and then Eomer slid his hand down and around to grip Thranduil's cock after swiping through the saliva dripping from his hole. He squeezed and pumped, tongue renewing its assault.

     The elf whined, lithe frame trembling. He took a sharp inhale of breath, trembling turning to becoming taut as a drawn bow. White teeth caught his lip, eyes shut tight as cock spent. Cream spilled over Eomer's fingers in a few short bursts. He rode out his release, shamelessly rutting as the sheets were soiled. Eomer chuckled and pumped his hand while still thrusting his tongue as Thranduil came, then pulled away. He shifted his arm around Thranduil's waist, and tugged him over to the other side of the bed, away from the stain and into his arms. The Elvenking settled next to him after wriggling free of the robe, eyes half lidded and circlet hanging crooked over hair. "We'll clean up in the morning," Eomer said, and kissed him on the forehead. He wiped his fingers on the sheets hanging off the edge, and gently touched the circlet with a faint smile.

_"Sweetest dreams, my king."_

     

     


End file.
